By Anna Evas

     1    Wisteria

How is it, being real,
you evoke the unreal?
In Tuam,

your aerial lavenders
suggest a soiree of elves.
In Tokyo,

the paintbrush of Hiroshige
turns you into a drape
for a shrine.

     2     Mimosa

Your soft brooms
sweep the sky.
Nimbus pinks,

the kilim-rug texture
of your leaves
tickle the breeze.

What magic
changes my rags
to feathers?

      3    Black-eyed Susan

I wear you like a jaapi hat—
the dome on top
brown as a clove.

Your sunup petals
shade my vision.
It’s a secret

how fields open,
the dark sweats spice,
my green eye wanders.

  4    Dying Prairie Rose

on a sharp green stem,

I ritualize
my own disappearance.

First petals drop,
then sepals shrivel

like thirsty tongues—
divested on an altar.

      5    Violettes Cristallisees

Tyrian purple,
your candied petals

flavor my humiliations
with a hint

of French soap.

I straighten like a tree
roosting with martins.

About the Author:

Anna Evas

Anna Evas  poems  and essays have appeared in literary and medical journals, including Michigan Quarterly Review and Irises. She makes her living as a pianist, composer and lyricist.